


Avant

by shobogan



Category: Excalibur (Comic), Marvel (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Female Friendship, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 20:04:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3663207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shobogan/pseuds/shobogan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about dancing is, you need to keep moving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Avant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scribblemyname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/gifts).



> Set near the beginning of Excalibur, shortly after the team moved into the lighthouse.

She found it while she was unpacking, a splash of white and blue amidst shades of gray. (They've still got so much to do, to make the lighthouse a proper base, a real _home_. Most of the team is out shopping – they need more power, more groceries, more appliances, more everything.) She was worried the leotard wouldn't fit, at first, but it does – really, it hasn't been _that_ long since she'd worn it. Since her world was still whole.

It's silly, to interrupt her work with this – she's got her whole system up and running, almost – but she can't help herself. It's tough, staying solid long enough to move all the furniture around, but she manages.

She stretches, first, using the lamp stand as a barre; she can hear Stevie's voice in her head, guiding her through it, making sure she doesn't rush. The memories are light and warm as the sun on her skin, shining through the observatory glass. It's easy to lose herself in the fluid movement, the silent rhythm. _One, two, three..._

Dancing was always an escape – a way to relax the tension in herself, the boundaries around her. She wasn't strange or stilted or special on the dance floor; she was just a girl, learning how to flow with the music. All she needs to be is Kitty, right now; not a genius, not a soldier, not Sprite or Ariel or Shadowcat.

When she first woke up, she never thought she'd be happy again. She felt more like a ghost than a girl, clinging desperately to a world that didn't want her any more. And why should she try to stay, when they couldn't?

 _One, two, three..._ Ororo, Logan, Piotr. The older sister she never had, the grouchy mentor who made her strong, the boy she thought she could -

No. She focuses on the moment, on the beat. _One, two, three_ , step, twist, spin, she is just a girl, just a melody.

“You're crying.”

She stumbles, barely catching herself on the edge of the couch as her hand swipes roughly at her eyes. Rachel is slouched against the doorway, smiling softly.

“Yeah, well, I didn't know I had an audience.” It's a low grumble, far too harsh for a proper ballerina. What was that Stevie said after their first lesson, about rough edges?

Rachel's smile only widens, as she steps forward. The light catches the gold of her necklace and makes it look almost alive, like it's ready to take flight any moment. “It was pretty, though.”

“...How long were you watching?” Now that she's straightened, she can cross her arms and look properly grumpy. Rachel shrugs, completely unabashed.

“A few minutes.” There's something mournful in her gaze, now, something – yearning.

Kitty forgets, sometimes, that Rachel had less of a childhood than any of them. Rachel, who'd soared into their dreams and pulled them into a new family, a new future.

She lets her arms drop, and steps around the couch. “I could teach you. I mean, I'm no Stevie – you've gotta meet her, by the way, you'd totally love her – but I've got some moves.” Rachel's eyes light up, but she doesn't accept; something is making her hesitate, and Kitty's eyes narrow as she peers at her.

Rachel looks away, into the sunlight. It'll be setting, soon. “Kate taught me a few things. I thought it was silly, and I can barely remember it now, but -” She takes a breath, and it waver a little. “She always said to me – there's more to life than this, kiddo. We've got to remember that.”

She didn't feel the tears, last time, but now her eyes are burning. She blinks hard, before she reaches out to grasp Rachel's hand. “She was right. Or, you know, I was right.” Still weird, still scary, doesn't matter. “I think – when you lose so much, it's hard to remember it wasn't everything.” That life is still worth living, that happiness is more than a dream.

Rachel squeezes her hand as she looks back, a smile tugging at her lips. She looks rueful and hopeful and so incredibly _young_. “It's hard, you know? Just – just living. I didn't get to do it for so long - “

She means to pull Rachel into a hug, but she's lost her concentration; all she does is pull her hand right through her friend's. They both stare at it, for a moment, before starting to laugh.

“Okay, maybe I _do_ need a different teacher - “

Kitty takes a playful swing at her, which wouldn't have connected even if Rachel didn't leap backwards, grinning like a tomcat. The light is dying behind her, which only makes her look brighter. Then her eyes flash, and suddenly she's wearing a perfect copy of Kitty's leotard, in red and gold.

“Show off.”

“Yep.”

Kitty rolls her eyes as she steps forward. “No using telekinesis to augment your moves. I can tell.”

Rachel snaps a salute. “Yes, ma'am.”

“And no fireworks, either.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

She can't suppress the grin any more. “Okay. So, the first thing we need to do is stretches...“

It doesn't take long to warm up; Rachel's already strong and flexible, it's more about _relaxing_ than anything else.

“D'you think we could steal a barre thing from Kurt's jungle gym?”

“Or, you know, we could ask.”

“You're no fun, Pryde.”

Then they're on to terms and movements; Kitty explains as they go, figuring it's easier to learn with fun and focus. (Besides, Rachel is more impatient than stubborn than _she_ was. ...Is.)

Rachel flicks the lamps on with a thought, as the sunlight finally fades away. They're both panting a little, and it's not long before Kitty holds up a hand. “Okay, the team'll be back soon and I _really_ need a shower.”

Rachel pouts as she straightens, but it's a resigned sort of petulance. Her cheeks are red, and her braid is sticking to her neck. “Yeah, okay. ...We'll do this again, right?”

“Yeah, 'course.” She doesn't expect an armful of sweaty Phoenix, but she solidifies just in time to catch her, abruptly losing the last of her breath.

“Thank you.” Rachel's cheek is damp against her neck; berating her would feel cruel and silly. Instead, Kitty wraps her arms around her and holds her close.

“My pleasure.” 

When she first woke up, she never thought she'd be happy again. Now, fully and truly, she knows how wrong she was.

There are some things they can never recover, but that doesn't mean they should stop moving. For everything she doesn't understand, Kitty knows this:

They'd want her to remember how to dance.

**Author's Note:**

> scribblemyname:
> 
> I ended up having to rush a lot on this, due to various factors, but I wanted to give you something sweet and simple and consummately _Kitty_. I hope I succeeded, and that you enjoyed it. ♥


End file.
